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Thoughts from the Corner Box
Is There a Reason to Believe
Why do we believe the way we do? Maybe a better question is, why do we believe at all? Is it because we don’t want to end up in the fiery furnace? Is it because we think we should? Because our parents did? I could ask this question in many more ways, but the bottom line is still, why do we believe?
I’m pretty sure my first try at believing was because my parents took me to church, and everyone there believed, so I thought I should too. I don’t think I really knew what “believing” was all about, but I knew I was supposed to love Jesus, so I did. It was fun, too. We had Bible School that was fun, our Sunday School classes were fun, and I knew Jesus liked children because I saw pictures to prove that He did. Also, He could do all kinds of magic and that was impressive. I was a child, wanting to do right, and just beginning to see and understand a little about God and Jesus.
As I grew, so did my understanding of God and Jesus and what believing was all about. I had no doubts. Then one spring our little community lost three sisters and their father in a horrible auto accident. Ruth was in my class, and her sisters were both upperclassmen. This horrific accident stunned our community and our school was devastated. The area churches opened as a sanctuary for those who needed a place to go, but the shock was overwhelming and nothing anyone said seemed to make sense of the loss.
My belief was tested during that time. I couldn’t understand how these sweet, fun-loving girls and their father could be taken away from us. They attended church every Sunday and they were believers. Why did God allow this to happen? If God can do all things, why didn’t He stop this accident. At the same time, lot of things started happening in our country and so I questioned God and even questioned if there was a God, but I got no answers, not one. I didn’t want to pray. Why bother if no one was listening. Who cares anyway– I thought no one.
I don’t know if it was time passing or the natural progression of things, but I stopped blaming God for allowing these bad things to happen. I realized that I had turned my back on God, but He had not turned his back on me. My earthly father would sometimes tell me to go to my room and to think about what he said or more importantly what I had said or had done. My Dad never stopped loving me when I messed up. Dad probably never really understood my teenage years, but he loved me through it all. He steered me in the right direction and helped me understand right from wrong and understand what was expected of me. My heavenly father did the same thing. He never left my side. He listened while I questioned who He was or if He even existed. He heard everything I said and He read my mind and my heart.
Thank goodness He read my mind and my heart and let my words pass away. I know in my darkest hours, He was standing by me. In the times when I was angry or hurt or scared and words wouldn’t come, He was right there understanding my hurt, my pain, and my fears.
Why do I believe? I believe because I am never alone, and I can talk to someone at any time day or night, and His love for me goes beyond anything I will ever understand. Knowing Him will make my life better than anything that little girl from so long ago could have ever imagined.
“And without faith, it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him.” – Hebrews 11:6
Sandra Mayhugh, August 2026
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